


Hurricane

by codenamekitsune



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenamekitsune/pseuds/codenamekitsune
Summary: After attracting the attention of the beautiful and enigmatic Sephiroth, Cloud finds himself swept away into a world unlike any he ever guessed existed. This is a journey of self-discovery and healing, of adventure and pain. Of discovering love and loss.
Relationships: Aerith/Tifa, Sephiroth/Cloud, Zack/Aerith, Zack/Cloud
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first creative work I have created in.... Far too long. I don't know how many chapters it will be or where it will go. My initial concept was a one-shot, but I quickly scrapped that as the idea grew more. The first chapter is somewhat short; it's a foundation.

“Cloud, your admirer’s back,” Aerith was all smiles, leaning into the break room as Cloud fixed her with a perplexed gaze. 

“My… What?” 

“You know, the super dreamy man with the gorgeous silver hair?”

“Oh, right,” Cloud said, not moving to get up from the table. “I’m on _break_.”

“Which is what I told him. You should have seen the pout,” Aerith said, drifting into the room, the door closing behind her, blocking out the sounds from beyond. 

“He’ll live,” Cloud said.

“I mean, obviously,” she said, leaning against the refrigerator, fixing him with a mischievous gaze that made him groan. “I think you should go talk to him.”

“I talk to him every time he comes in and I’m at the desk,” Cloud said. 

“It’s cute when you pretend to be naïve,” Aerith said. “Seriously, Cloud. He’s into you.”

“Not interested.”

“Well that’s a lie,” she said. “You turned all red last week when he was leaving.”

“He winked at me!”

“Because he’s into you,” she repeated. She crossed one arm over her body, the hand of the other tapping a finger against her lips. She grinned, holding up that single finger, as though gifted with an epiphany. “I know! Let’s make a deal. You go talk to him, get to know him, be a little social. Or, I go talk to him and give him your number. It’s a win-win.”

“In what world is that a win-win?”

“The world where you maybe go on a date with a cute guy,” she said. “You need to loosen up, relax, have some fun.”

“I have fun,” Cloud said. 

“You work and you study. It’s not healthy, Cloud.”

“Neither is butting into people’s love life.” 

“Honey, if you had a love life I wouldn’t have to butt into it,” Aerith said. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Cloud sighed, standing. “I’m on break.”

“Perfect timing, then!” Aerith said, taking hold of Cloud’s wrist with both hands, tugging him toward the door. “He’s over in the cardio theater.”

“I’ll find him. He’s hard to miss.” 

“I know, right?” Aerith asked, laughing as she tugged Cloud out of the breakroom. She got behind him, gave his shoulders a light push. He stumbled, catching himself after a trio of missteps. “You’ve got this. I have faith in you.”

Cloud sighed as he struggled for his composure, absently tugging at the hem of his shirt. Aerith meant well, he knew, but that didn’t change the inevitable awkward result of going to speak to Sephiroth. Not because he was a regular so much as because Aerith had pinned things down perfectly. The man was almost painfully attractive, possessing an otherworldly grace rivaled by no one Cloud had ever before seen. He was also an enigma, had never mentioned what he did for a living, or anything else personal. That he had taken a clear and obvious liking to Cloud both baffled and elated him. Mostly, he thought, as he walked past the ellipticals and toward the treadmills, the confused elation was tinted with definite nerves. 

It wasn’t that Cloud lacked confidence, regardless of what Aerith believed or didn’t believe. He was aware of the way he looked and the attention that got him. No, his problem wasn’t lack of confidence. It was much simpler than that. 

He hadn’t been on a date in almost three years. He was out of practice.

Sephiroth was on the farthest treadmill from the entrance, running what looked like an effortless seven-minute mile. His silver hair was tied back in a low tail that hung almost to his waist. It swung with his gait, the fluid motion of slender but well-muscled arms. It was impossible not to notice his build. The sweats he wore were tight at the waist and his black tank was tucked into them. He smiled when he caught Cloud looking.  
This was going to be trouble. 

“Uhm…” Cloud stopped at the side of the treadmill, brow knit as Sephiroth reached to slow the pace of his run. He wasn’t breathing heavy, wasn’t sweating at all. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt your break, but you co-worker is quite persuasive,” he said, smiling still, his blue-green eyes glittering. 

Cloud said nothing, just watched as Sephiroth continued to slow the treadmill until he was jogging, then walking. His head tilted to the side, and not for the first time Cloud wished he could better gauge what someone was thinking. 

“I know one isn’t meant to do such things while someone is working; it makes the recipient feel trapped,” he said. “Do you forgive me?”

His brow remained knit, but he shook his head. “It’s fine.” 

“Well, since you’re being so encouraging,” Sephiroth said, smiling. “Come to dinner with me.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet Cloud felt as though he could refuse if he wanted. Conditions at work might be awkward for a period, but ultimately there would be no harm. He wasn’t trapped, was free to say no, to walk away. Aerith would be disappointed, might try to push them together again, but that would be the extent of it. He could get on with his life. But really, what was the point of that?

“Where?” Cloud asked, and Sephiroth’s smile grew. There was something beneath it, Cloud thought, something he couldn’t read or identify. 

“Potions,” Sephiroth said, and Cloud didn’t need to be a mind reader to know the pleasure that his surprise elicited. “It’s my treat.”

“I’ve never been,” Cloud said, unable to think of any other response, but not wanting to remain silent. 

“Good. If you had, I’d have had to think of a different place,” Sephiroth said. “I’ll pick you up. Friday night. Your co-worker told me you have the night off.”

“That’s… Against company protocol.”

“Meant to protect you from would-be stalkers, I know,” he said. 

“And yet…” 

“Precisely,” Sephiroth said. “There’s a dress code for the restaurant. Nothing outlandish. A button up and nice jeans would be fine.”

“I can manage,” Cloud said, wondering how underdressed he was going to inevitably feel. Sephiroth looked like the type to effortlessly appear stunning and immaculate. 

“Then I’ll see you at six o’clock,” he said. “I’ll leave you my number. Text me your address.”

Again, Cloud realized none of these requests were true questions. Yet, he continued to feel as though he could step away at any moment. Sephiroth had authority without striving for it, but there was an openness to his tone that assuaged any sense of being trapped that Cloud might have felt. Was he in over his head? Almost certainly. But he felt a little thrill of excitement beginning to trickle through him all the same. 

“I won’t keep you anymore,” Sephiroth said, smiling still, soft and tempting, playful and maybe dangerous. “Breaks are important things to take.”

“And you have a workout planned.”

“My _plan_ was to see you,” he said, his smile growing. “Ah, there’s the blush. I was hoping to get to see it.”

Cloud turned to the side, his face aflame. His entire body felt warm, as he played back what Sephiroth had just said to him. The man looked like a model, spoke with a calm confident authority that brokered no argument, and he was casually dropping such statements as though they were easy to say. Cloud had never encountered someone like that, and the realization that this was actually happening made his heart race. 

“Go on, enjoy your break,” Sephiroth said. “I’ll leave my number with Aerith if you aren’t at the desk when I leave.”

Cloud looked at him, blushing, his brow knit. He had no words, every one that swam to the surface sounded tinny and useless even in his head. He couldn’t speak, and so he nodded to Sephiroth, thinking of how long his week was going to be, while he waited for the weekend to come. 

The longest of his life, he thought, stepping back away from the treadmill, as Sephiroth watched.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not surprising -- to me at least -- this thing is quickly taking on a life of its own. There's intrigue afoot people. But this chapter is mostly fluff, getting the hang of the characters, etc. Enjoy!

“Cloud’s going on a date!” Aerith tugged off her helmet as she entered the apartment, grinning. Cloud was still down the hall, his own helmet tucked under his arm. It wasn’t that he was dragging his feet, just that Aerith was excited. She left the door open for him as she went in. 

Tifa was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed and a Playstation controller in her hands. She muttered something into the headset she wore, set aside the controller. “He what now?” She asked, smiling as Aerith flitted over to her, kissed her cheek.

“A date!” Aerith said. “It took some convincing, maybe a little arm twisting, but he’s got a date.” 

“With the guy you told me about?” She asked, as Cloud finally came in. 

“Neither Aerith nor Sephiroth left me many options,” he said.

“Sephiroth, hm?” Tifa asked, tugging out her phone. “Do you know his last name? Actually, never mind. How many Sephiroths can there be on Facebook?”

Aerith sighed, flopped onto the couch beside Tifa. “I already tried. He’s not online anywhere. Which really sucks because I wanted to show you.”

“He’s cute?” Tifa asked, looking from Aerith to Cloud. Cloud met her gaze for all of a half-panicked half-second, as he fidgeted with his helmet. 

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Cloud said. “I’ve got homework.” 

Aerith rolled her eyes. “We need to think about what you’re going to wear. Sephiroth is taking him to Potions.”

Tifa’s brow arched, watching Cloud. He was still fussing over his helmet, seemed to have forgotten where it belonged. She hadn’t seen him so animated in a while, and it was nice to see. Nice to know he was excited and nervous and finally living again. 

“Jeans, button up,” Cloud said. 

“If you want to be boring, sure,” Aerith said. “You think Sephiroth will be in something as simple as jeans and a button up?”

Cloud groaned, thinking of how good Sephiroth had looked in sweats and a tank. He didn’t know much about clothes, and it could have been the sum of the man giving him the impression, but he imaged that whatever Sephiroth wore was going to look immaculate and stunning. How could he compete with that?

“I don’t have anything _that_ nice,” he said. “I’m going to be underdressed.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Aerith said. “Or, we could go shopping and get something new.”

“No. I don’t have time,” he said, finally setting the helmet on the small table beside the door. 

“Cloud,” Tifa said, her tone gentle where Aerith’s was playful and a little pushy. Cloud looked at her, his expression drawn. “This is something you want to do, right?”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. It was so easy to be caught up in the game of protest. The answer wasn’t immediately clear. Had he allowed himself to be guided to this point, mindless and agreeing because it was easier than saying no? He thought of Sephiroth’s blue-green eyes. They looked so much like Cloud’s own that the recalling of them made him shiver. 

“I only ask because it has been a while,” Tifa said, gentle still, as Aerith sat beside her, one finger tracing little circles on Tifa’s thigh. “I know you don’t really like to talk about what happened, but…”

“I want to go,” Cloud said, interrupting her before the subject could truly be discussed. “He’s attractive. There’s something about him I can’t really explain. I’m not just doing this because Aerith thought it would be a good idea.” 

“I just wanted to make sure,” Tifa said, smiling. 

“Yeah. I know,” he said. “I really do have work to do.”

“Okay, okay,” Tifa said. “I’ll make dinner tonight and we’ll figure out what you’ll wear then?”

“Sure,” Cloud said. “I’ll raid my closet. Maybe I’ll surprise myself.”

But he knew that wasn’t going to happen, even before he surveyed his options. It wasn’t that he dressed poorly, or that he didn’t know how to dress, and simply that he didn’t ordinarily go anywhere that required the sort of finery he imagined Sephiroth would command. He had a single, soulless suit that he’d worn once and hated. The button ups he could pick from were boring and stuffy. If jeans were truly an option, he did have a couple decent potentials, but overall there was no clear and complete outfit to choose from. 

Going shopping with Aerith and Tifa sounded nightmarish, but he wasn’t sure he had options. It was either go with them or risk looking foolish when he met with Sephiroth. He wished he’d thought to ask him what he’d be wearing, wished he’d thought to try to orchestrate some level of matching. He could text him, sure, but it seemed beyond the point of doing so. He was on his own with this, or rather, he was at the mercy of Aerith and Tifa. 

He could hear them in the living room, their hushed voices. They were talking about him, and the reality of that flooded his face with heat. He didn’t like being the subject of discussion, would prefer to drift quietly through this portion of his life. That was naïve, he knew, so he closed the door to drown out the voices of the whispering women.  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tifa made spaghetti that night. Tifa and Cloud were already sitting, and Aerith was in the kitchen fetching wine. She was humming as she did, something soft and sweet and melodious. Cloud liked the sound, found it soothing.

“We haven’t all eaten together like this in a while,” Tifa said. “I’m sorry it’s not something more fancy.”

“Spaghetti is fine,” Cloud said, wishing he could force a smile without it looking forced. 

“I know it’s _fine_ , I just—”

“Tifa, really,” Cloud said. “It’s good.”

She looked at him, sighing as Aerith returned with a bottle of wine. “I can’t remember what kind of wine is supposed to go with pasta,” she said. “Also we only had this kind.”

She was laughing as she poured a glass for each of them, set the mostly depleted bottle in the center of the table. “We should have made garlic bread.”

Tifa’s nose wrinkled. “Garlic kisses are gross.”

Aerith rolled her eyes, sipping the wine. “They’re not that bad.”

“Says you,” Tifa said, smiling as she watched Aerith. 

Sometimes it still surprised Cloud that the two girls were together. When they had first met, Cloud thought for sure they wouldn’t get along. There was too much history between him and Tifa, and Aerith was too much of a natural flirt. There would be jealousy and tension, he had thought for certain. But there never had been. They had taken to each other almost instantly, bound by something Cloud didn’t entirely understand but that he was happy for. Because it was good to see them together, to see them happy and in love. He wanted it for each of them. Wanted even more for them to have the support of one another, because that was something he couldn’t give either woman. He couldn’t protect them or keep them well, and now he didn’t have to. They had one another. 

Six months after their first date, Tifa asked Cloud if Aerith could move in with them. The apartment was small, she said, but if things worked out well they could find a bigger place, a nicer place. Cloud would have agreed even if they’d only had one room to share. Because Tifa so clearly wanted Aerith there with them, and Cloud would give her anything he could, especially something so simple and effortless. Any worries Tifa had were assuaged almost as soon as Aerith entered the apartment, and they did move at the end of that lease. Their new place was more spacious and filled with flowers and greenery, cultivated and cared for by Aerith. It was home, and they were a family.

So when Aerith overstepped boundaries Cloud would otherwise have liked to uphold it didn’t bother him so much. There was a connection between the three of them that he couldn’t explain, and it made certain things easier to withstand. He didn’t often engage in the more playful aspects of their lives, but neither woman pushed him to do so. They understood why he was the way he was, and asked few questions. He couldn’t remember the last time either of them had been so adamant that he do something they thought was in his best interest. Knowing as much made it easier to allow himself to be pushed toward Sephiroth. So, of course, did the man’s simple and pleasant allure. 

“So… Shopping,” Cloud said, half his glass of wine gone. “Do I have creative input?”

“Well,” Aerith said, drawing out the word. “Obviously we wouldn’t make you wear something that you hate, would we, Tifa?”

“No, of course not,” she said. “We just want to help.”

“But your fashion sense is sort of bland.”

Cloud looked at her, glancing at her outfit. “You’re always in pajamas.”

“Well, yeah! I’m at home! How many weird turtleneck tank tops do you own, Cloud?”

“They’re comfortable.”

“But not exactly high fashion,” Aerith said. “You can’t really argue that, and don’t you want to make a good first impression? What if you and Sephiroth end up getting married? Do you want the story of your first date to involve an embarrassingly casual outfit?”

“I… Think you are getting so far ahead of yourself,” Cloud said. “It’s one date.”

“And you’re worried about being out of practice, I get that,” Aerith said. “Which is why we’re going to make sure you look stunning. You should get a haircut, it’s getting a little long in the back.”

“I like it like this,” Cloud said, touching the nape of his neck. It wasn’t long, not really. 

“Remember when you had the little ponytail?” Tifa asked, smiling. “I was so sad when you cut it. It was adorable.”

“… I’ll call a barber tomorrow.”

“Cloud!” Tifa said, and both women laughed. 

“It was her idea,” Cloud said, looking at Aerith, who was grinning.

“This is actually going to be a lot of fun,” she said. “Let’s all get up early tomorrow so we can go shopping?”

“I have work at two,” Cloud said.

“Okay, so like I said, let’s all get up early tomorrow so we can go shopping,” she said. “We can’t do this Friday. What if it takes a while to find a good outfit?”

“All I really need is a shirt. How long could that take?” 

Aerith shrugged. “Dunno,” she said. “But we still shouldn’t wait until the last minute. There’s no way I’m letting you go on this date looking anything but your best.”

Cloud sighed. “I don’t have a choice in this, do I?”

“Nope,” Aerith and Tifa spoke in unison, their eyes meeting as they did. Cloud rarely missed it when an unspoken moment like that passed between them. They made him happy, reminded him that maybe he hadn’t made quite as many mistakes as he often told himself. If nothing else, he had helped make this happen for them, and their happiness brought him joy. 

“I’m turning in early, then,” Cloud said. “Contrary to what you seem to want to believe, I really do have homework to do.”

“You know we’re proud of the work you do, right Cloud?” Tifa asked, and Cloud pulled in a deep breath. 

“Can we not?” He asked, quiet. “Just, let’s drop it?”

“Of course,” Tifa said, smiling softly. “You’re forgiven from dishes duty. Aerith and I will clean up. You go get some rest. You’ll probably need it for tomorrow.”

Cloud tipped back the last of his wine. “Thanks, Tifa,” he said. “The spaghetti was great.”

“The wine really brought it together,” Aerith said, her cheeks a little pink from the drink. 

“All that’s missing is dessert,” Tifa said, and again there passed between them an unspoken moment. Aerith’s hand, beneath the table, went to Tifa’s thigh. 

“On that note,” Cloud said, rolling his eyes as he got up from the table.

He left them to their giggling and their murmurs of affection, happy for them and, despite himself, hopeful for what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this, please leave a couple words to say as much. Writers are needy creatures, and I'm horrifically out of practice. Constructive criticism is highly encouraged. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thread of this has veered wildly into unexpected territory. I hope you enjoy mystery and intrigue and maybe a touch of sci-fi. This was meant to be simply fluff, I swear. If you're still with me on this, thank you so much! I hope you're having at least as much fun reading it as I am having writing it.

All in all, things could have gone a helluva lot worse. Shopping was not painless. Nothing about that experience had been what Cloud would expressly label as fun. Aerith and Tifa were great at cajoling him into trying outfits he never ordinarily would have without making him feel cornered by the prospect. They were great at selecting things that looked so-so on hangers but somehow looked nice on Cloud. They had an eye for what would push his boundaries without giving him undue cause for anxiety. Honestly, they’d had more success than Cloud had expected, and he returned from the mall with a few bags of new clothes bopping against the sides of his legs as they walked. 

Both Aerith and Tifa had restrained themselves to looking only for things for Cloud. Clothing and accessories and even a new cologne that both women insisted was pleasant without being too over-the-top. By keeping their eyes focused on him, the result was an exhausting day but at least only one person’s worth of new clothes to wash. Tifa had patted Cloud on the arm and told him not to worry about it, that she’d do it while he finished up whatever work was weighing on his mind. Aerith had smiled and said she would take care of dinner, which meant takeout or delivery. What had surprised Cloud the most during their little escapade was that the pair had insisted Cloud not spend a cent of his own money on the clothing. Let it be their treat, since neither of them could remember the last time Cloud had permitted them birthday celebrations, or even Christmas. He had dug deep for a grumbled response, but only managed a quiet thank you. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the funds, he’d just hoped to use them elsewhere. Though on what exactly he hadn’t quite decided. 

“Besides,” Aerith had said, her arm hooked in Cloud’s as she drug him toward the next store. “You can buy us lunch.”

So really, once again he found himself having to admit that he’d gotten luckier than he could have expected, and had even had a begrudging amount of fun. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but there had been something exhilarating about trying on some of the clothes Aerith came carrying back to the fitting room. Especially the ones all three of them knew were so far out of their budget that they were laughable. It took some of the stress out of the situation, some of the butterfly nerves of why they were there. Standing and looking into a mirror, doing a little twirl while Aerith and Tifa grinned and clapped, all while wearing a five hundred dollar shirt was so absurd that it bordered on surreal. 

Had he ever had that kind of fun before? Once upon a time, he supposed, but he couldn’t remember exactly when it had been. 

Nudges of memories, half forgotten. Pieced together like a dream. He remembered laughter and something more. A bonfire maybe, the embers drifting against the dark sky. Whiskey kisses and cheap wine.

There was a knock at his door. He didn’t entirely remember sitting on his bed, changing into his work clothes. There had been so many outfit changes that day he supposed that was expected. Tifa poked her head into his room, her hair hanging loose. 

“Oh, you’re already dressed,” she said. “Can I come in?”

His brow knit, and he glanced at his clothes, wondering if there were something wrong with them. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

She came in, moving quietly, with a sort of lilting grace. Cloud liked watching her move, the calm control she had of her body. Men underestimated her because she looked small to them, but Cloud knew better. Cloud had seen Tifa train, had seen her in situations they both would rather forget. He knew the musculature hidden by the sleeves of her hoody, knew the power in her legs. 

“Aerith just got a call from one of your co-workers,” she said, leaning on the door behind her, shutting it. “Said they tried to call you but your phone wasn’t working.”

“Oh…” He dug into his pocket, pressed the button on the side, but the screen stayed black. “Guess I forgot to charge it.”

“It’s okay,” Tifa said. “Anyway. He wanted to know if you would switch shifts with him? Last minute and all, but I guess something came up.”

“Just means he wants to party this weekend,” Cloud said. “Aerith said yes, didn’t she?”

“She figured you wouldn’t mind getting a good night’s sleep before your big date tomorrow,” Tifa smiled. 

“Yeah, sitting at home all night worrying about how it’s going to go sounds great,” Cloud said. 

“We could go over the gameplan, if you want.” 

“Gameplan? It’s a date.”

“Yeah but, y’know, what kind of drink are you gonna order? What’s your go-to small talk?”

Cloud sighed. “Was this a huge mistake?”

“And that’s why we’re taking the night,” Tifa said, crossing the room. She didn’t ask, just sat beside him, one hand going to his knee. “It’s good that you’re going, y’know. I know it probably feels really rushed and maybe even a little forced, but I think you’re going to have fun. Even you said this Sephiroth guy is pretty.”

“Almost… Impossibly so,” Cloud admitted. “He almost doesn’t seem real.”

“But he is real, Cloud,” Tifa said. 

“Yeah, no, I know that,” he said. “I’m fine. I was just pointing out that he’s very…”

“Aerith said he’s a little intense,” Tifa said. “But that he always asks about you.”

“Some would say that’s stalkerish.”

Tifa laughed. “She said he’s charismatic enough that it doesn’t come across that way. Apparently she was pretty standoffish the first time he asked about you. She wanted to test him a little. Take that as you will. Standoffish for her isn’t exactly standoffish for, well, other people.” 

“When he asked me out, it didn’t even really occur to me to say no. Not because I felt like I didn’t have a choice, and just because it seemed like the only way to answer.”

“It’s called a crush, Cloud,” she said, an edge of teasing to her voice now that he was opening up a bit. “I know it’s been a while.”

“It’s going to be awkward.”

“Yeah, probably,” she said. “But you’re going to look and smell great and as long as you don’t drink too much wine I think you’re going to be just fine.”

“I think wine is going to be what gets me through this,” he said. 

“I guess you’re not going to wow him with your bike then, huh?”

Cloud looked at her, blue-green eyes glittering. “Maybe for date two.”

She grinned, reaching for his hand. “C’mon, then. Let’s pick out which outfit you’re actually gonna _wear_.”  
  
  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cloud took one step into the restaurant, and did a complete one-eighty. It was too much. Too much glitz, too many people in nice clothes and dim, romantic alluring lighting. There were candles lit at the tables, and a bar with a massive mirror behind it, casting the room in delirium shades. He stepped to the side of the handsomely dressed man orchestrating valet parking. He dug a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his back pocket as he did. Disheveled because he hid them; neither Tifa nor Aerith knew he still smoked. He couldn’t remember starting, but when his heart got to racing and reality seemed to close in, a cigarette was the quickest way to return to normalcy.

His hands were shaking, as he lifted a cigarette to his lips. He missed the flame on the lighter once, twice, then raised it to the tobacco. He was inhaling, his eyes closed, when a hand touched his shoulder. 

“Cloud.” 

He almost screamed. In another life he might have, one where he had more animation left in him. As things were, he flung the lighter to the ground, the cigarette lit but only haltingly so. It trembled on his lips, threatening to fall. His nerves felt raw, his heart racing and his mind rebooting. The restaurant and the touch and the voice, so close to his ear. 

“Are you nervous?” Sephiroth asked, and then his fingers were brushing Cloud’s as he touched the cigarette, pulled it from Cloud’s lips. Cloud was too numb to stop him, to even speak. He stood, acutely aware of how close this man was to him, his body unsure how to react. Fight or flight or surrender. He heard and felt Sephiroth’s inhale, smelled the smoke as he exhaled a moment later. “These are awful. If you’re going to smoke, you should buy a better brand.”

“Well I try not to make a habit of it,” Cloud said.

“Did something spook you?” The cigarette dipped back into Cloud’s vision and he had the startling realization that Sephiroth was offering it back, that it had been in his mouth, that it had passed his lips but he was offering it back. He raised an unsteady hand, taking it, not quite pressing it to his lips. 

“Realized I was early,” Cloud said. 

“That’s fair,” Sephiroth said, stepping back, the pressure leaving Cloud’s shoulder. Cloud turned, looking up at him. Their eyes were so similar, though something in Sephiroth’s gleamed with a light Cloud couldn’t identify. There was something, not a spark, Cloud didn’t want to say a spark, but there was some sort of intrigue. He was taller, had pulled his long silver hair back into a low tail. Cloud wondered what it looked like down, wondered how soft it was. 

“There, you’re coming down some,” Sephiroth said, the corners of his lips tugged up into a smile. “You look nice. It’s new, isn’t it?”

Cloud glanced down at himself. Everything Sephiroth was wearing had that superbly tailored appearance. The black slacks perfectly pressed, the button-up with the sleeves rolled up and showing thinly muscled forearms. His vest was double breasted and probably cost more than Cloud’s entire outfit. He was so perfectly put together that Cloud wanted to groan. 

“You look better,” Cloud said. 

“Hardly,” Sephiroth said, watching Cloud with an intensity that made Cloud at once self-conscious and prideful. What could he be seeing, he wondered, dim. 

“It’s nice,” Sephiroth touched his shoulder again. Cloud was also wearing a button-up, had the sleeves rolled up as well, in an effort to feel less constrained. Sephiroth was wearing silvers and blacks and deep reds. Cloud was in navy and black and gray. Sephiroth was tailored perfection and Cloud was vibrant, wild youth. “This was a good touch.” His fingers went to the dark gray scarf Aerith had picked for him, saying it reminded her of when they were younger. 

“I didn’t pick it out. I’m not very stylish.” 

Cloud was internally cringing at himself, wishing he could find his balance. There was something about Sephiroth, however, that seemed antithesis to finding his footing and maintaining it. It wasn’t expressly bad, the way the other man made his heart race, but it was unfamiliar. He needed time to adjust. 

“You’re going to burn yourself,” Sephiroth said, reaching for the cigarette and plucking it from between Cloud’s fingers. He dashed it on the ground, crushed it beneath an expensive heel. Cloud’s eyes followed the movement, watched the sparks flash out against the concrete, thinking again of some long ago bonfire. He stared, seeing them and seeing things that weren’t entirely memories, more like ghosts. 

“Cloud?” 

Fingers, soft and impossibly gentle, touched his chin, tilted his face up. He took a deep breath, thinking that this was the worst possible time for an anxiety attack, and then his eyes were on Sephiroth’s and everything like fear or confusion vanished in a flutter. He blinked, confused. 

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Sephiroth said. 

“But…” 

“I don’t mind, not at all,” he said. 

“… Where were you thinking?”

Sephiroth smiled more, his fingers still cupping Cloud’s chin. “I know a spot, but we’ll have to make a stop along the way.” 

Cloud let out a breath, not wanting to voice how relieved he was by the suggestion. Potions was beautiful, but it was a class above him. There was something disarming and disorienting about the glittering patrons he’d glimpsed. He wasn’t sure he could handle such an atmosphere when coupled with the fascinating man standing before him, not when the few simple touches he’d felt had sent him so reeling. 

“Sounds like an adventure,” Cloud said, trying for a smile of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I have more coming! I already know exactly where the next bit is going, but I have a final essay for an English course due in four hours and, well, I haven't even started yet. If you're enjoying, please drop a line! Constructive criticism is highly welcome! It's been ages since I've written anything creative, so I'm still finding my groove.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I know it's been absolutely forever. I had some personal stuff going on. Atop the Global Pandemic, I also moved 800 miles across country. I'm settled and in a better place mentally now, and want to finish this fic. I did say there would be supernatural/sci-fi elements, right? UwU

Cloud stood at the curb, waiting for Sephiroth to come back with the car, and wondering how in over his head he was. The expensive new clothes felt like an uncomfortable lie, one he had enrapt himself in with little hope of escaping. Surely Sephiroth could see through him, could pinpoint every little nuance of discomfort, every time Cloud wasn't sure what to say or think or do. He could hardly remember the last time he had felt so helpless, and the memories of that last time were hazy at best. More of what he remembered was the texture of sand, the gritty way it had gotten into everything. His boots, his shirt, between his teeth. The sand he remembered, but not so much the fighting. 

Then he had gone away. A tactic that sounded most appealing in that moment. 

Before the wish could solidify itself into reality, a criminally striking car purred up to the curb. It was sleek and black with silver accents in all the right places. There were logos, but Cloud didn't recognize any of them. He watched with dismayed attention as Sephiroth leaned over to pop open the passenger door. 

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" He asked, smiling up at Cloud with feline green eyes and the perfect touch of insane mischief. 

"N-no," Cloud said, finding his voice. "No."

He got into the car, and that was when the date began. 

  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You're quiet," Sephiroth said.

"I'm distracted," Cloud said, and it was true enough. The interior of the car was all smooth leather and intricate stitching, with dials more reminiscent of a futuristic spacecraft than the kind of vehicle Cloud was used to. His bike had some bells and whistles, sure, but it was nothing like this. 

Sephiroth laughed. It was a low, melodious sound that darted beneath Cloud's skin and lodged somewhere center mass. 

"It reminds me of you, actually," he said, running a hand over the armrest at his right. His nails were long, manicured, a frosty pale color that was somewhere between glass and natural. 

"Of me?"

He laughed again, low, breathy. "You," he said. "You don't tame a car like this. You learn her secrets."

"Did you miss that I'm a man?"

"No," Sephiroth said, looking at Cloud. "I did not." 

Cloud felt color rise to his cheeks and looked away. There was something about Sephiroth, a casual flippancy that drove Cloud a little insane. What did he mean, that the car reminded him of Cloud? And that comment, about not being able to tame such a thing. So he wasn't trying to tame Cloud, then.

He thought, in a flash, of Aerith and Tifa and all their well-meaning concern. 

"You thought of something just now," Sephiroth said. "Tell me."

There was no question in it, and thoughts of being tamed placed aside, Cloud could think of no reason to deny the other man. 

"My friends," he said. "They treat me like I'll break if any pressure at all is applied."

"Will you? Break."

Cloud thought of deserts, of a place he knew he had never been. He thought of blue eyes. Dark hair. He closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of gunpowder and blood. He touched his chest, feeling the unfamiliar fabric of the new shirt, nicer than anything he owned because who was he trying to impress?

"Cloud?"

Sephiroth's voice, gentle and calm. 

"Look at me, Cloud."

He did. How could he do anything but?

He met those feline eyes, and felt himself swimming in them. 

Distant, the sound of gunfire faded. 

"There he is," Sephiroth said, smiling. "There."

  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sephiroth and Cloud dined beneath the stars on a perfect fall day. All around them were the crisp smells of the season. Fallen leaves and puffs of cloudy breath, when one of them would laugh. They laid back on the plush blanket Sephiroth kept in the trunk, and gazed at the stars with a sort of abandon Cloud couldn't remember feeling. 

This was what being home felt like, he thought, as he felt himself falling for the mysterious man who had approached another to inquire about him. As he felt himself tumbling, head over heels, toward what he would ordinarily claim must spell disaster but that which now felt like the only possible course. It was as terrifying as it was alluring, to feel himself so immediately enamored. But then, this man had been able to read him, to bring him back to himself when he was lost in a prison within his own mind. This man had, with the simple truth of his words and the touch of his hand, grounded Cloud in a way that medication and psychiatrists hadn't been able to do. Was there magic in Sephiroth's touch? Cloud wasn't sure he believed in such things, but then he glanced at the strands of silver hair that were so near his hand, and he wasn't so entirely certain.

"What made you accept my invitation?" Sephiroth asked. His green eyes were not on the sky. They hardly left Cloud, as though he felt that if he looked away he wouldn't have him there beside him anymore. This quiet insistence filled Cloud with a sort of overly warm sensation. It colored his cheeks and quickened his heart. 

"My friends," Cloud said. "It's… Been a while. Since I've gotten out. They made it sound like it was the right choice."

"Do you agree with them?"

"So far?" Cloud looked at the other man, then back up at the stars. A brief flicker of light streaked in front of his eyes and he sighed, closing them. "Yes."

"If I may be permitted a moment of boldness, then," Sephiroth said, and Cloud felt his arm slide across him, felt the steady weight of him as Sephiroth leaned over him. He felt the press of warm, soft lips and knew his life would never be the same. 

He melted in the kiss under that autumn sky, on the night his life began again. 

And the night he was damned. 

  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, the wind whipping through his hair, Cloud realized that for the first time in what might be years, his thoughts were entirely clear. There was no looming threat of disassociation, no promise of whispers from beings he couldn't see. There was no terror in the shadows around him, no fear in the streaking lights as he roared past them on his bike. He was not afraid, and he could not honestly remember the last time his thoughts had been so clear. 

This was how the mind was supposed to work, he reminded himself. This is how the others feel every day. The way a brain reacts to the world when it hasn't experienced a trauma so debilitating its user can't even remember. He tells himself, in harsh tones his therapist would decry, that the reason he can't remember is because they never happened to him but rather another. He was not there for the moment that ruined his life.

It controlled him all the same. 

Not this night, however. Not after lying beneath Sephiroth and allowing himself to be lost in the wonder of his kiss. The man had been surprisingly gentle, hadn't pushed Cloud beyond what could almost have been called an innocent touch. It would have been, had Cloud not felt the tightness in his pants and the bulge from the other man. That they wanted each other was painfully obvious. But Sephiroth had never sought to take it any further than that kiss, and his hands had stayed on Cloud's cheek, had cupped the side of his neck in a possessive and protective gesture that had left Cloud near mewling for more. 

He shuddered on the bike, knowing that the girls would see it on his face. Knowing that they would realize he had brushed against desire and come out on the other side changed. They always seemed to know. And when he ran himself a cold shower upon getting home, when he walked straight to the bathroom and turned on the water, he heard them whispering and giggling to each other. 

At least they did not pounce upon him until he came out, a towel around his waist, his torso naked and wet, blonde hair clinging to his face. He looked young, like that, his blue-green eyes bright and full of life uncharacteristic of him. Wondrous, Tifa would have said. His eyes looked filled with the sort of awe adults rarely got to experience, because he looked almost childlike. Content and sane and wholly there.

"Well, aren't you glad we pushed you to say yes?" Aerith asked, giggling behind her hand as Cloud blushed. 

"I'm going to bed. Good night," Cloud said, starting down the hall.

Aerith danced around him, blocking his path, holding up a finger and lightly touching his chest with it. This was familiar, this was family. Cloud stopped, looking at her, at the quizzical way she regarded him. Her ability to read him had always unnerved him, because she seemed almost alien when she did it, and eerily accurate. Before Sephiroth, she was the only person who could touch him when the episodes got bad enough, when he became lost in the prison that was so often his mind. 

"Oh. _Oh_ ," she said.

"No oh. We had a picnic is all."

"A picnic!" She smiled at Tifa, who gave her a reproving 'leave him alone' gesture that she ignored. "When are you going to see him again?"

"Who said I am?"

"Cloud, c'mon," Aerith said, but she let him sidestep her as he continued to his room.

At the door, he paused, turning to look back at them. 

"He's going to call me in the morning," Cloud said. "We're going to get lunch."

The girls burst out giggling, and Cloud closed the door on the sound, surprising himself with the soft smile as he tumbled into bed. His dreams, that night, were blissfully empty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sci-Fi element of this is quickly devolving into fantasy. I promise to try to wrap them neatly enough together.

"Do you really think it's a good idea?" Aerith asked, lying in bed with Tifa's head against her chest. Tifa's fingers were in Aerith's hair, playing with the soft strands. 

"It was _your_ idea," Tifa said, fingers brushing skin. "But I understand what you mean. He's been through a lot. This is huge for him."

"Huge and potentially scary. Remember that time we went to watch the fireworks display?" Aerith sighed, closing her eyes as Tifa continued to trace little delicate patterns across her skin. 

"That was different, I think," Tifa said. "The booms freaked him out, but I think that's pretty normal, all things considered. This was a date. A good one, based on the way he looked when he got home. All windblown and alive."

"That's a good way to describe it. Windblown and alive," Aerith said. "That's how you make me feel."

Tifa laughed, soft. "We're talking about Cloud now, I thought."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't talk about us a little bit, too."

"Is there something we need to talk about?" Tifa asked, pulling away and propping herself on one elbow to look at her girlfriend. 

"I guess Cloud maybe getting better had me thinking about things we haven't talked about in a while," Aerith said. 

"Oh?"

"Ever since we lost Zack, things have been different," Aerith said, and Tifa knew a speech impending when she heard the tone in her lover's voice. She fell silent, letting the other woman continue. "We thought we knew what we wanted from life, the three of us, and it was really nice. Cloud showing up was a surprise, right? This kid who apparently knew Zack really well, but had some issues from the start. But we worked it out because that's what Zack would have wanted, even if things never really… Well, y'know. And I've been thinking, as we watch Cloud get better, that one day things are going to change again because they have to, right? That's part of life. Bad things happen and we adjust and eventually good things come up too. Right now I feel like we're coming onto one of those moments of good, and I want it to be something we can enjoy.

"I'm worried about Cloud. I want him to be all right. When you told me about Sephiroth I was pretty sure that sounded like a good idea. I mean, I don't know the guy, but he passed your vibe test so there's gotta be something there. Then Cloud has this great date and maybe it's way too soon to start counting chickens, but a girl's gotta dream if she's gonna keep moving forward.

"I don't want to kick Cloud out. I'm fine with Cloud living with us forever if that's what he wants to do and you're okay with it, even though I know things are never going to go back to the way they were before, the way they were with Zack. I think that was a one time thing. A scenario that only worked the way it did because all three of our souls were operating on the same wavelength. I think most people are lucky if they find one person in this big old world that they can resonate with like that, and I found two at the same time. Talk about lucky! But in realizing that it probably won't happen again, and that I don't even want it to. Like, I'm not chasing that sensation, because it was special and I don't believe in replication.

"What I do believe in is us," she paused, taking a breath and the moment to kiss her girlfriend. "Cloud is getting better, and we can start thinking about the rest of our lives. What it means to be moving forward together and I just. I just—" 

"Aerith," Tifa said, finally speaking. Their eyes met.

"Hm? I'm trying to figure out the right words."

"And what I'm telling you is that my answer is yes."

The two women embraced, lying in bed together. Their kiss was sweet, and not at all chaste, as Tifa's hand drifted over the swell of Aerith's chest, the soft skin of her belly, and dipped beneath the blankets. Aerith's breath caught in her chest, and Tifa kissed her all the harder.  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cloud was lost in dreams in which the sand swirled around him like chaos. It whipped at his face, stinging his eyes, chapping his lips until they were dried tatters. He wore a thick scarf around his neck, it was supposed to help with the wind and the sand but despite it his face was windburned and red. His blue-green eyes stood out against suntanned skin, and he surveyed the desert around him with a sort of pained detachment that would grow to insanity if allowed. This was where men went to die, he thought, one way or the other. Either they bled out in the sand which they so hated or they left their soul there when they went home. Either way, nobody made it out of the desert without losing a large part of what it meant to be the person they were.

He felt his soul leaking out through the dried pores of his body. He was expiring an inch at a time and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could only walk his rounds. Follow their commands. Do what they told him to do. Like a good soldier, he patrolled. He listened. He sat quietly at chow and played cards with the other men when they should be sleeping but couldn't. Sleep, like water, came at a premium during a desert war, and Cloud had never been good at taking more than his share.

At night now he dreams of the desert he never saw. He imagines what it must have been like to dig trenches to shit in. He can smell the fire of burning excrement that some poor sap has to light and clean. He wonders if that person will ever again inhale and not smell that putrefaction. How could he do anything but? When Cloud wasn't even there and he can summon up the smell with a thought.  
The dreams are so real they wake him to a trembling, unresponsive body. They are so real he can do nothing but lie in bed, paralyzed and stupid, waiting for the terror of them to pass. More than the fear they bring is the pain of loss, of not understanding why he is so trapped in another's hell. If only he had answers. He longs for them, cries out for them in his sleep with an impotent voice that can do nothing more than mewl and whimper. He is a neutered thing, incapable of helping himself or dragging himself out of a sandpit which he never saw men fall into. Logically he realizes this, but it does nothing to lessen the memories. As if he is siphoning them from another. 

His shrink doesn't know why he sees the things he does when he closes his eyes. Post Traumatic Stress is the official cause, but from where does the traumatic stress come? Cloud can't remember anything from a period of over a year in his life, and he has to assume it is from them. His time of great disappearance, wherein he frightened those remaining close to him and returned with nothing but a fractured psyche and not even the whisper of memories. That was why he had chosen to fill them with the horrors of another, the horrors of one he swore he knew, though those closest to the man couldn't claim to have ever heard the other speak of Cloud. What to make of that…? He didn't know, wasn't sure he could ever know. 

So he curled himself into a ball at night when the dreams were bad and he could do naught but whimper and wish he better understood himself. 

Only this night it was different. This night he clutched his phone to his chest and remembered the words Sephiroth had said to him, before Cloud got on his bike and rejoined the solitary world. 

"Any time, Cloud," Sephiroth had said. "If you want me. Any time."

Cloud did want the other, didn't he? He laid in bed, his mind swirling, and he held his phone against his chest. Contemplating what it meant to be desirous and contemplating what it would mean if he reached out. 

What did he have to lose?

The light of the phone nearly blinded him in the dark. Through squinted eyes – squinted against the desert wind and sun – he typed a message and fired it off.

"Where are you? I want to see you. I'm sorry."  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sephiroth sat across town, at a bar even nicer than the one that had sent Cloud nearly into a panic. This one dripped diamonds and expensive bottle service. He sat by himself, a two hundred dollar bottle of wine open on the table in front of him, its contents half gone. The text message he received from Cloud was exactly what he was waiting for, exactly what he had hoped for.

His plan hadn't necessarily been to snare the boy so quickly, but things so rarely went according to plan, and an accelerated timeline did nothing but thrill Sephiroth. He had expected the game to drag out, had expected cat and mouse and shy interactions with little substance. Then Cloud had hated the bar, and the picnic had been such an easy and safe option. 

Never mind what they said in some circles, about how dangerous breaking bread with certain types could be. 

Now he belonged to Sephiroth in ways the boy would not come to understand for some time. 

That, Sephiroth thought, as he left a tip on the table and walked out of the bar, was part of the fun.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it for now! Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!


End file.
